


Princess Rapunzel

by quicksilvermalec



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Does anybody read these, Fluff, M/M, Non-Consensual Hair Cutting, POV Sam Winchester, but that's mostly emotional distress lol, enjoy, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 17:50:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20430011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksilvermalec/pseuds/quicksilvermalec
Summary: It started with a human being ghosted by an angel and ended with a very pissed-off brother and an extremely clingy Trickster.So in other words, it was a day that ends in 'y' for the Winchesters.orIn which Sam was just trying to help. He was, he swears it! But that came back to bite him in the ass because what doesn't?





	Princess Rapunzel

**Author's Note:**

> Oooh, this is so fun. Enjoy!!!

It started with an Angel playing ghost. Or, more accurately, ghosting a human.

It started with a human being ghosted by an angel and it ended with a very pissed-off brother and an extremely clingy Trickster.

So, in other words, it was a day that ends in 'y' for the Winchesters.

Dean was moping around the bunker because Cas wouldn't pick up the phone or answer his prayers. Really, Dean should have expected this when Cas told him he needed to go take care of some Important Unavoidable Heavenly Angel Business.

Either way, Dean was getting increasingly depressed missing his angel and Sam, being the fucking amazing little brother that he was, was determined to help him.

But he'd tried everything already. Her marathoned Dr. Sexy M.D. with him. He'd taken him to bars. He'd bought him pie. Nothing seemed to help.

So he went to Rowena.

"Is there anything you can do to cheer him up?" he practically begged. "Dean sulks better than Cas, and Cas could be an Olympic gold medalist at sulking!"

"Well," she said after a moment, "I suppose there is one thing I could do."

"Well?" Sam demanded. She gave him an amused smile.

"I could remove his inhibitions and lead him to do whatever would make him happiest in this moment."

Sam clapped his hands together victoriously. "Great! Do that, please. I'm literally begging you, I can't take this anymore."

He didn't hear back from her with a definitive status update on that, but judging by the way Dean looked at breakfast the following morning, she'd probably followed through.

He made his way into the food room (Dean had referred to it as such once when he was tired and hungover and it just sort of... stuck) and his brother was already wolfing down pancakes like...

"Like you've been in hell," Sam used to say, before they both went to Hell and it stopped being funny.

(So normal Dean eating behavior.)

When Sam entered the room, he looked up in greeting and his grin widened. A whole lot.

Sam smiled at him a little haltingly in return (that was the kind of attitude that made him feel like he was about to be mercilessly pranked), and hesitantly sat down where his brother had placed his plate. When there were no whoopie cushions or giant axes from the ceiling, he dug in.

"You're cheerful this morning," he commented. Dean smirked around his chipmunk-cheeks.

"Yeah, I suppose I am."

They ate in comfortable silence for the rest of the meal, and then Sam excused himself to go and take a shower.

It wasn't until he was almost done that he realized anything was wrong. He ran his sudsy fingers through his hair and thought that something felt... off.

He funded and stepped out of the shower, towel around his waist, still dripping. When he caught his reflection in the mirror, he stared at it for a long moment. There was a barely audible thwack when the towel hit the floor.

Downstairs, at the table in the dining room, Dean burst into a fit of giggles in response to the enraged shout of his name that rescued him from one of the bunker's master bathrooms.

"What's so funny, Winchester?" inquired a familiar voice from his left.

"When did you get here?" he grumbled.

"Right about when you started laughing like a fucking maniac," his new companion replied. "So what's the joke? I want in."

Dean winked. "Stick around and you'll see."

#~+~#

Sam was thirty-six inches away from chewing his brother out. Oh, was Dean going to hear it this time.

Then he founded the corner into the kitchen and came chest-to-chest (okay, it was more like chest-to-face because of how freakishly tall he was but whatever) with the last person he expected to see.

If he'd been drinking coffee, which he intended to be in a minute, he would've done a spit take.

"_Gabriel_?" he choked out.

The blond took one look at him and collapsed into a fit of hysterics. "Oh, you were right, Dean-o, it _is_ hilarious," he howled.

There was an archangel in Sam's kitchen.

There was a _laughing_ archangel in Sam's kitchen.

Why was this his life?

"What the fuck is going on?" he demanded. Gabriel recovered and smiled sweetly at him.

"I like the new look, Sammich."

"Shove it up your ass," Sam muttered without thinking, not even really talking to him. He was too consumed with his own anger and he was glaring at his brother over the Trickster's head.

"Talking of that, Dean, would you care to explain this?" He gestured vaguely to his head region.

Dean shrugged nonchalantly. "I know it's a pretty choppy job, sorry. To be fair, though, you were asleep and I was trying not to wake you up. You can shave it if you want, though, make it more even."

"That's not what I'm _talking_ about," Sam hugged. "Why did you do it?"

Dean shrugged again. "I'm not actually sure. I was thinking about it and the idea of cutting your hair made me so happy and then suddenly I was just doing it."

Sam groaned. "Oh, fuck. Oh, Jesus fucking Christ on a tortilla with the Virgin Mary."

"May Daddy forgive you," Gabriel murmured amusedly, smirking wickedly, as if he was getting even more out of this than Dean was.

"Woah, what's up, Sammy?" Dean asked.

"I brought this on myself," he muttered. "Good Lord, isn't that just hilarious?"

"Yeah, course you did. You haven't had short hair since the sixth grade, what did you expect me to do?"

Sam sighed resignedly. "You're fucking welcome, jerk."

"Thank you... I think? Bitch," Dean added, looking - and sounding - seriously confused. Sam could relate.

Sam turned and walked out of the kitchen. Gabe followed him all the way to his bedroom.

"God, what do you _want_?" the hunter demanded, whirling in the doorway to face him.

"You," Gabriel replied bluntly, seeming unfazed by his outburst. "I've always wanted you, but there's something about this new haircut... it's alluring."

"Oh my god," Sam laughed bitterly and then their lips collided. He was kissing him. He was kissing a Trickster. He was kissing an archangel.

He was kissing Gabriel.

As the blond's fingers wove their way into Sam's now-considerably shorter hair, Sam thought briefly - madly - that maybe the haircut wasn't such a bad thing after all.

**Author's Note:**

> For the anon that requested Dean cutting Sam's hair in his sleep. 
> 
> Love,  
-Sil


End file.
